


Ducky Love

by alicynnae



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Late night cuddling, this is just mushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicynnae/pseuds/alicynnae





	Ducky Love

He’s needy, whiny even when he finally comes around, his eyes bloodshot and drooping. “Babe.” He slurs and really, you can’t help but laugh as his eyes wander around until they find yours. “Mm?” Is all you can mutter, lips ghosting over his temple. He smiles a little, glad you’re really there and paying attention to him. “How much?” He mumbles, fisting at his eyes in a poor attempt to wake the fuck up, because this is his favorite time of the day. When he’s not really sure what time it is, not night but still not yet morning, finding himself all tangled up in you. “Dunno what’cha mean.” You mumble, glancing down sleepily at his fingers that had already began their decent to your stomach, tracing his name into your skin like it would somehow officially claim you as his.

“How much you love me, I mean. S’important. Tell me again.” He urges, closing his long fingers around the curve of your hip, giving it a tiny squeeze. “So needy.” You hum, threading your fingers through his dark hair, watching the purple polish on your nails disappear and reappear repeatedly. He makes a noise against your shoulder, his nose making a snotty sniffling sound. He only ever got like this when he was really tired, too out of it to form full sentences. “Tell me.” He repeats, his hand running down the side of your body opposite to him, not at all in a sexual way, just in a way that says he wants to feel you, just have his hands on you and keep you there. 

 

“Love you a lot. You know.” You say quickly, dismissing the idea of professing your undying love to him at, a quick flick of your head and a glance at the clock, 3:34 AM. He groans at the lack of effort but hums in appreciation at the same time, a weird sound bubbling in the back of his throat. There’s a long moment of silence, before he speaks through a yawn, “Love you more than ducks love bread.” He smiles against the skin of your stomach, pressing his lips there, once, twice, three times. You snort, giving his hair a playful tug once your fingers stop moving. “Go to sleep.” You whisper, twisting your head down to kiss his hairline, a messy wave of unruly hair tickling at your nose. 

He whines, but doesn’t protest, his eyelashes fanning out across his cheeks as he closes his eyes. The sound of the fan over you is the only thing heard for a while. But he’s not asleep, his head still tucked onto your stomach, pressing sleepy kisses there, still. “Ducks love bread a lot.” He whispers into your skin. “Used to go and feed ‘em all the time. Th’eat it right out’ya hands.” His words are jumbled together now, barely recognizable. “Don’ like wheat bread so much. Bit at me when I tried to give it out.” He mumbles and you just laugh, listening intently to his sleepy ramblings, like they’re instructions that could alter your very being. 

“Ducks love bread a lot, love you a lot.”


End file.
